You

Another from the archives of my writing. Grieving the loss of an imagined future is hard.

Yesterday we drew a line. This time seemed more real than the rest, there really is no going back now. A full stop at the end of us. We finally admitted what we were and in the same breath we were done. 

For a year of our lives we were writing something, i’d hoped it could have been the start of a healed future for us both.

This grief feels so raw, this wasn’t supposed to be the outcome. You promised you’d always be there for me and I keep thinking of all the plans and conversations that have now faded into dust.

Today you dropped off the pieces of me that I gave to you. You acted so cold, indifferent. But for a moment I thought I saw pain. I wanted so desperately for you to say what was really going on in your head. 

I wanted you to acknowledge reality. I wanted more than anything for you to tell me what you were really feeling. The truth behind the facade you so carefully project to the world.

But you didn’t. I watched you walk away from me for the last time before I broke down in my doorway. I didn’t let you see. I didn’t want you to. I couldn’t let you know how broken I was over you. 

For the first time in a long time I’m begging to feel numb, because I don’t want to feel this, I never wanted us to be done.

So tonight I’m surrounded by those pieces you returned. So many memories that are now mine alone to keep safe. To stop them from being erased like everything else you did today. And I honestly don’t know if that is a blessing or a curse. Because I don’t want this either. I don’t want to be the only one who cares.

I don’t know how you made it look so easy. Like I never meant anything to you at all. That wasn’t the person I’d grown to love. And reality hits that I really don’t know you anymore.

I let you in. And for a while it was good, but your mixed messages messed with my head and just brought confusion. 

We were friends, who had an intimacy that wasn’t just friends. We were friends but we talked about buying a house. We were friends but we went on dates. You told me once you knew that a relationship with me would be significant, and that scared you. So you used the label friends and felt that allowed you to act as you did and be free of consequence. Or maybe you felt it gave you an excuse when you knew it was breaking my spirit and my heart. You called us friends, but we were more really. A relationship that was and wasn’t at the same time.

Now I’m left broken and reeling. I’m wondering if in reality, you are too?

But delusions get you nowhere and I’m tired of caring.

This chapter of my life is now over, forever titled, You.